The Form of Sound

Photo by Laura Campbell

Cast in moonlit shadow

Painted with soft desire

Ancient wisdom whispered

In the flutter of a moth’s wing

Quietly spoken

In the language

Of flowers

And light

Photos, Poetry jim spaulding, laura campbell, photography, poetry

Deep crimson twilight
Emerald caverns
Filled with visions
Drawing me deeper
Into the earth
I am afraid
I will be lost
Swallowed
In moist, hot darkness
I cannot resist
I know it is calling me
I go into it
I cannot see
Then
Just as I am in total darkness
A golden light blinds me
I know not where I am
It is the sun
The call of the dark earth
Has brought me
Suddenly
Into the light
As if passing through a veil
A membrane
The light fades
I see a flash of the surface in the sun above
I am in a great, round cavern
Everywhere, the emerald glow
I think about Jules Verne
The earth
My mother
The woman I love
Myself
I float into the center
The golden glow surrounds me
Infuses me
I am in the sun
I am the sun
I am a sacrifice
I die
I dream
I am exalted
I am a man
Again
Standing on the surface
In the sun
I remember
My sacrifice
The earth is glad
I am glad
All is right
As it was meant to be
Balance is restored
I am whole
The earth is satisfied
My thoughts return
To the woman I love
I am still the sun

Poetry jim spaulding, poem, poet, poetry